


His Father's Name

by kimirce



Series: next stop, anywhere [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Canon Era, Dragons, Friendship, Gen, I definitely overused italics a bit, Reveal, Reveal Fic, dragonlord, foreign court, incomplete piece, just a scene, merlin tells the truth, well part of it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimirce/pseuds/kimirce
Summary: Prince Arthur is acting as an ambassador at a foreign court - one that is uncomfortably sympathetic to magic. He is accompanied, as always, by his knights and faithful manservant.Strangely, when they arrive, the nobles seem to recognize Merlin, calling him by a name that Arthur has not heard before -Ambrosius. Merlin claims ignorance, but is clearly uncomfortable with the attention they give him. Arthur is determined to pry the truth out of him.
Relationships: Balinor & Merlin (Mentioned), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: next stop, anywhere [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838635
Comments: 12
Kudos: 309





	His Father's Name

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bobbing Along on the River of Destiny](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15688770) by [Talis_Borne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talis_Borne/pseuds/Talis_Borne). 



> Another random scene for my series of incomplete works.

Arthur side-eyed Merlin, watching his servant carefully as he spoke his next words. “Ambrosius,” he mused. Merlin stiffened, nearly imperceptibly. “Where do you think they got that name from?” Arthur’s voice was deliberately nonchalant.

Merlin shrugged. “Haven’t a clue, sire,” he said. “Would you prefer the red tunic, or the white?”

Merlin was trying to distract him. And it would have worked, too. Arthur was accustomed to brushing off Merlin’s odd excuses. But this time… Arthur was certain Merlin knew more than he was telling. For that reason, he couldn’t let this go. Not until he knew what had prompted Merlin to lie to him.

“The red,” he answered. Merlin laid out the clothes on the bed, then returned to him, ready to help him disrobe. Arthur gripped his wrist.

“Merlin,” he said.

Merlin’s eyes darted about. He really was a terrible liar. “If you’d rather undress yourself for once, you could just say so,” he said, voice light.

“Merlin,” Arthur said again, warning.

Merlin tried to tug free, but Arthur only held tighter. “Merlin,” he began, letting his honest confusion show on his face, “Why are you hiding something from me?”

“Me, hide something from you?” Merlin scoffed. “I’m an open book.” He smiled that wide, disarming smile, that made him look like a fool. Something clicked uncomfortably in the back of Arthur’s mind. How many times had he dismissed Merlin’s odd behavior when he wore that foolish grin that made him look so guileless?

“Only if the book was one of ciphers,” he retorted. It was true, now that he thought about it. He had spent years in Merlin’s company - day in, day out. Every one of Merlin’s emotions was always written clearly on his face, and so Arthur had known that Merlin could never lie to him. But he often was unsure what those emotions meant, and he was always ready to shake his head and move on from his ridiculous servant’s inane babbling. Not this time.

“Merlin,” he said again, “What is it? You can tell me.” Merlin looked down and said nothing. Arthur could almost see him trying to work out a lie. What was he trying to hide? Whatever it was, Arthur wasn’t going to let him.

“They called you Merlin Ambrosius,” he said, watching Merlin’s face. He kept talking, trying to work it out. “That’s…it sounds like a nobleman’s surname, one you clearly recognized. But you never knew your father.”

Merlin bit his lip.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, appalled. There was no way Merlin had been lying when he told Arthur of his father’s abandonment. The pain had been too true, too raw, matching Arthur’s own grief for a mother he never knew.

Merlin looked torn. “When I told you that,” he said slowly, “it was true. I knew nothing of my father then.”

“But you do now?” Arthur released Merlin and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “What – when, how? Why did you never tell me?” Arthur tried to hide his hurt. There was nothing Merlin did not know of him. Though it could not be admitted, due to their stations, Merlin was his truest friend. But he had not seen fit to tell Arthur when he had learned something so important.

“I wanted to,” Merlin said, and there was pain in his voice. He met Arthur’s eyes. “But I didn’t dare. It was too dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Arthur’s confusion mounted. “Because your father was a noble?” That would mean that _Merlin_ was a noble, odd as that seemed. Though it was true that he had never acted as a peasant should. He didn’t much look like one either.

Merlin’s eyes flicked down again. “I suppose he might have been,” he admitted. “Gaius won’t tell me much about him.”

“Why? Why keep any of this a secret? You would not be treated as you are in my father’s court if the truth was known.”

Merlin’s eyes widened in panic. “Arthur, you can’t tell anyone. It would be worth my life if the truth were known.”

There was fear, real fear, potent and terrible on Merlin’s face. It unsettled Arthur to realize that he had never seen Merlin so afraid. None of this made any sense. He threw up his hands. _“Why?”_

“Because your father tried to kill mine, Arthur.” Merlin met his eyes, clearly uncomfortable but resolute. Arthur reeled back.

_“What?”_

“If Uther knew who I was, he wouldn’t hesitate to execute me. That’s why I never told you, they warned me, told me it wouldn’t be safe - ”

Merlin was starting to babble. Arthur held up a hand, and Merlin fell silent. Arthur tried to sort through this new information.

“My father knew yours,” he stated. Merlin nodded. “And tried to kill him.” Merlin fidgeted, but nodded. This was getting more unbelievable by the minute. Though he had only himself to blame, he supposed, dragging it out of Merlin like this.

“When did you learn this?” he asked.

“About two years ago,” Merlin answered. Two years. Two years in which he had refrained from telling Arthur this very important information.

Arthur sighed. “My father is not that unreasonable. He would not kill you for having a father whom you never knew.”

Merlin raised his eyebrows, clearly doubtful.

“He wouldn’t,” Arthur insisted. Merlin did not look at all encouraged.

Arthur decided to drop it for the time being. “How did you learn of this? Do you know what your father did?”

Merlin pursed his lips and remained silent. Frustration reared its head in Arthur. Getting the truth out of Merlin was an arduous task.

 _“Merlin,”_ he said, exasperated. “You might as well just tell me. Surely there is little point in trying to keep any more secrets.”

A hand rose to rub at Merlin’s face. “You’d be surprised,” he said roughly. He walked over to sit in one of the chairs, looking defeated.

Arthur went to join him. He wanted to keep pressing, but sensed that it was best to be silent. Finally, Merlin spoke.

“You know that I’m loyal to you, right, Arthur? No matter what our fathers did or believed. I’m happy to remain your servant until the day I die.”

Merlin got like that sometimes, professing his devotion to Arthur with words instead of actions. Arthur knew. Merlin made his loyalty and friendship clear every day – though he apparently hid more secrets than Arthur had guessed. But still, he trusted Merlin.

“I know,” Arthur answered softly. “You would never betray me.”

Merlin nodded once, seemingly glad to have gotten that out of the way. He took a deep breath.

“Gaius told me who my father was the night before we left to find the Dragonlord. He asked me if my mother had ever mentioned the name Balinor.”

Arthur’s eyes went wide at the implications in that statement. Merlin continued, staring at the floor.

“Then he told me that Balinor was my father, and that he had gone to Ealdor when he fled Uther’s purge. My mother took him in. He had to flee when Uther got word of where he was hiding and sent knights after him. He never even knew my mother was pregnant.”

Merlin smiled weakly. “He was very surprised when I told him I was his son.”

Arthur gaped for a moment, stunned. He shut his mouth quickly, aware that his expression was undignified. He stared at Merlin. Gawky, foolish, brave, clumsy, bright-eyed Merlin – the son of a Dragonlord.

“Your father was a Dragonlord.”

“Yes.”

“He…he died to save you.”

Grief flashed over Merlin’s face.

“Yes,” he agreed, subdued.

Arthur got up, unable to sit any longer. He paced the room, thinking back to those dark and fear-filled days of the dragon attacks.

_…if you weren’t a prince, I’d tell you to mind your own damn business._

_Something like that._

_I thought he’d be better._

_No man is worth your tears._

Merlin had been quiet, and unusually belligerent. Arthur had known something was wrong, but had dropped it without much thought. He regretted that now.

He drew up short as a realization hit him. “The dragon,” he said. He turned to look at Merlin. Merlin refused to meet his gaze.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, warning in his measured tone. “What happened to the dragon, Merlin?”

Merlin’s throat flexed as he swallowed, and when he looked up at Arthur, his eyes were bright but dry.

Arthur waited.

Finally, Merlin spoke. “The power of a Dragonlord is inherited, passed from father to son upon the death of the father. When Balinor died, I became the last Dragonlord.”

A Dragonlord. Not just the son of a Dragonlord; Merlin _was_ a Dragonlord.

“You killed the dragon,” Arthur said.

Merlin’s expression twitched. He looked like he was trying to figure out what to say.

Something seized in Arthur’s gut. “Merlin,” he said again, “tell me the dragon is dead.”

The dragon had to be dead. If Merlin had gained a power he’d known nothing of and then used it to kill the dragon, to protect Camelot – if he’d rejected magic’s taint, that was one thing. But if the dragon still lived…

Merlin did not speak, but his silence and stricken face were answer enough.

“Damn it, Merlin!” Arthur said, and started pacing again. “That monster killed hundreds of my people, our people. Why the hell is it not dead?”

“He’s not a danger anymore,” Merlin said.

Arthur whirled on him. “Have you lost your mind? _It_ is a bloodthirsty, fire-breathing monster! It attacked Camelot for no reason! None of us are safe so long as it lives.”

Merlin’s expression changed, and anger flickered across his face. He rose to his feet. “He attacked Camelot because your father _murdered_ all of his kind – all _my_ kind,” he said. “What he did was wrong, but he was angry and in pain, and he did it out of revenge. It never would have happened if Uther hadn’t attacked us first. So no,” Merlin spat, eyes hard, “I didn’t kill him. He’s my kin, Arthur. The last connection I have to my father. I _won’t_ kill him.”

Arthur stared at his manservant, wide-eyed and shocked. _Us,_ Merlin had said. _My kind. My kin._

“You _have_ lost your mind,” Arthur said, horrified. Magic had taken so much from him. And now he was finding it was taking Merlin too. “Magic is evil, Merlin, you _know_ that,” Arthur said, stepping closer to this man who was suddenly a stranger to him. “My father, _your king,_ was protecting the people of this land when he stamped out that evil. And you will _never_ speak of him in such a way again.”

Merlin stood up and glared at him. “Or what, you’ll kill me?”

Arthur’s jaw clenched. “I should kill you!” he said. “You let a monster go free on this land.”

“Kilgharrah is _not_ a monster,” Merlin said, voice tense.

Arthur blinked. “You _named_ the bloody thing?!”

“He already _had_ a name! Which he _told_ me!”

Arthur pulled up short, skeptical. “It can talk?” he asked.

Merlin stared at him. “Of course he can talk,” he said flatly.

Arthur resisted the urge to bang his head against the nearest wall. Suddenly, Merlin did not seem as though he had suddenly turned into a stranger at all. Of course the damn thing could talk. And it wasn’t like he could expect _Merlin_ of all people to kill a thing that was talking to him – especially with the notion he seemed to have that the thing was his family. This was the same person who had cried over a unicorn. The problem wasn’t that Merlin was evil; it was that he had too much bloody _sympathy._

Arthur stepped back and pinched his brow. “It’s still dangerous to have it roaming about, Merlin,” he pointed out, a tad more calmly.

“No, it’s not,” Merlin insisted. Arthur opened his mouth to refute that, but Merlin stopped him. “No, listen, Arthur, I’m a Dragonlord. He has to do what I tell him, and I told him to leave Camelot forever and to not hurt anyone.”

Arthur’s mouth worked. “He has to do what you tell him,” he repeated. “The dragon has to do what you tell it.” He stared at the slim, unassuming man before him.

Merlin nodded. “He can’t disobey me.”

Arthur stared at Merlin in consternation. This was not how he had expected this conversation to go. At all. As he tried to figure out what to say, he heard a knock on the chamber doors. Both he and Merlin jumped at the sound.

Arthur cleared his throat. “What is it?” he called.

“The feast will soon be ready, Your Highness,” came the voice of an attendant. “Is there anything I can help you with, sire?”

“No, I’ll be right out,” Arthur said, and yanked his tunic over his head. He gestured sharply at Merlin, indicating for him to help Arthur dress.

As they worked to make Arthur presentable, Arthur broke the silence. “This conversation isn’t over,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Merlin replied.

Arthur glanced at him. His features had smoothed over, the emotions from earlier giving way to a serenity that Arthur suspected was at least partially feigned.

They walked to the door. “I mean it, Merlin,” Arthur said.

Merlin raised a brow. “I know, Arthur,” he said. “We will finish this conversation, and the others that follow. I promise.” He reached for the door.

“What others?” Arthur asked, slightly suspicious.

A slight smile pulled at the corner of Merlin’s mouth. His voice was hushed, near Arthur’s ear. “Well, now that you know, I imagine Kilgharrah will want a word with you as well.” And with that, Merlin pulled the door open, stepping back to a respectable distance.

Arthur fought not to gape at him. The dragon? Did Merlin just say the _dragon_ would want a word with him?

As he stepped out into the hallway, he made a rude gesture at Merlin behind his back, out of sight of the attendants and guards, and heard a stifled snicker.

Well. This conversation was definitely not over; but neither, it seemed, was his friendship with Merlin. Arthur suspected his life had just gotten infinitely more complicated, but he had a feeling that he and Merlin would figure it out together.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I definitely overused the italics. But, you know, it seemed appropriate, so I'm going with it. Also, I don't have a beta and I didn't exactly proofread this, but I hope it still turned out okay.
> 
> I got the idea for this while reading [Talis_Borne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talis_Borne/pseuds/Talis_Borne)'s [Bobbing Along on the River of Destiny](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15688770/chapters/36453981). It doesn't fit in with her fic or anything, but that's where my inspiration came from. (That fic is hilarious, by the way, and if you liked this, I highly recommend you check it out.)
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think in the comments, and as always, I am around on [tumblr](https://kimirce.tumblr.com/), and would be delighted if you want to come hit me up there!


End file.
